Bleached Christmas 3

Yes, its that time of year again, so its time again for another sad, yet heart-warming little tale about Christmas. Enjoy and please review.

1.

It was once again that time of year, where deja vu reared its ugly head and the same events seemed to relay over the top of each other, just with different gifts each time. Where people once received an ill-fitting shirt they would now get a DVD they never wanted or a pair of ill-fitting pants to match. A jolly red giant invaded homes and shopping centres yet unlike most people who break and enter he is greeted with open arms and best wishes. It's a time of superficial greed and materialistic consumerism and something about a birthday.

All over the world, like the year before and the year before that, people young and old were delighted by the prospect of joy and gifts and happiness and other warm and fuzzy crap that makes pessimists want to lodge a bullet deep into their brain. But fuck pessimists! This is a happy occasion! So what if some guy's gonna jump off a bridge? I'm getting presents!

Oh and by the way, in case it was too hard to guess, it was Christmas (Deja Vu?)

This time of year was a blessing for many but a curse for some. For you see, the past several years Christmas had been a little complicated in the sleepy little town of Karakura. There had been all manner of misfortunes befalling an unlucky few and it seemed their luck runs out by the time December rolls around each year.

It was because of this that one young man, with fiery orange hair was pacing back and forth in his room, cursing and grumbling and staring out the window at nothing in particular. Snow was falling, the tiny flakes settling on the glass in a thick spreading mist that sealed in his doubts and concerns for the coming holiday.

In no time the window fogged up and the boy began to shiver. He shuffled over to the old heater in the corner and turned it up as far as it could go, pushing the ageing machine to its limits. While he shuddered and shivered and so forth the cupboard door behind him began to slowly slide along on its rails until a sweet little face was poking out.

"It's gonna be different this year!" the girl, Rukia, chimed like a cheerful little bird.

The boy, Ichigo, wished to believe her, he truly did. But he was less than convinced. He rolled his eyes and leaned forward into the heater's blast of warm air. A low sigh escaped him, fostering unusual glances from his female companion.

The two looked at each other in silence until-

"What?"

"N-Nothing!"

"Don't look at me weird!"

"Sorry Ichigo!" the girl cried, cowering inside the cupboard, retreating into the safety of her makeshift shell. She closed the door almost fully and sat in the darkness, listening intently on her friend's heavy breathing.

"Why?" Ichigo groaned, a question he seemed to be asking to himself more than anyone else.

Nonetheless, Rukia answered him, "I'm sorry I made you upset..."

"No, not you!" he snapped back so quickly he practically cut her off. "I mean this entire thing; this whole holiday season...Every year it's the same. We all try so hard to get into the spirit, to be swept up in that holiday cheer. And yet every year it all comes crashing down. But it's not like that for other families! It's just us, just me!" The young man let out a misty exhale as he collapsed onto his bed, bouncing up like a kid on a jumping castle.

"Why me?" he asked again.

Rukia didn't answer that time. She stayed inside the cupboard, hugging her knees close to her chest and burying her face between them. No matter how hard she tried this time of year was always depressing for her. It was an inescapable hell she was forced to suffer through year after year. She had grown used to shouldering the burden alone for the many decades she had lived alone, but now Ichigo was suffering with her. She couldn't stand hurting him and this was only making things worse.

She felt sorry for the poor boy. He was only trying to help her and yet it had instead caused him such trouble. Even when she tried to help him out last year, everything had gone against her and instead she had just caused Ichigo more pain.

They say "Third time lucky," but Rukia doubted this year would be any different...

A petite young girl was dragged away from the pet store by her parents. She held onto the cages for dear life while her mother and father each took a leg and pulled with all their might, eventually snatching her away from the alluring clutches of the fluffy little creatures within.

The girl protested, but her family coaxed her into their little red car, a compact little thing with a set of furry antlers on the roof and a red nose on the grill. The car was tiny, yet somehow had four doors. It was a cramped little thing, but it held some fond memories for the young family.

"So, you excited for Christmas?" the girl's father asked, his voice dripping with cheer.

The girl bounced on her seat like a child half her age, clapping her hands together and making chirping sounds more befitting of a bird. Her eyes lit up and she squealed, unable to contain her excitement.

"I sure am! I sure am! I love Christmas! I can't wait for Santa to get here; I swear I'll catch him this year!" Determination brimmed up within her, an aura of childish innocence beaming around her.

The girl's parents laughed.

She laughed too.

Everyone was laughing, everyone was smiling.

Then there were other sounds. A horn blaring. Tyres screeching as they melted into the road. Screams of panic. Cries of pain. Metal grating against metal. Glass shattering. Bodies crashing.

Silence.

The girl opened her eyes. The world was spinning, everything blurred as if viewed through a greasy camera lens. There was a foul taste in her mouth, a terrible odour flaring through her nostrils and burning air wheezing through her shrivelled lungs.

It hurt. It really hurt.

She cried out for her mother, a hoarse, feeble little whimper that she could barely hear herself over the raging crackle of fire. She looked around for her mother, scanning the mangled cage of warped steel that had once served as their car. Everywhere she looked there was red, all red.

She cried out again and reached out towards a pile of vehicular debris, shifting it aside. Beneath the stack of twisted metal shards lay a hand, slender and feminine. A chipped wedding ring still clung to the bloodied finger it was wrapped around.

The girl grasped the hand she knew was her mother's and squeezed, softly whispering her name over and over.

There was no reply.

Tears clouded her vision. They stung her eyes and she wanted to wipe them away, but she was too exhausted to even lift a finger now. Defeated, she rolled onto her side and stared out through the blurred haze at a house across the road. Tiny orbs of light stretched across the gutters and dangled down over the roof. The fence outside was also draped in colourful decorations. Streamers, lights, tinsel...

But the thing she noticed most of all, was the soft red glow coming through the window. Through the misted glass she could see a thick pillar of green, overflowing with colour.

"Pretty..." she sighed.

The girl's eyelids grew heavy. She closed them, just for a little while and then she drifted off to sleep.

Ichigo's sombre contemplation was severed when he heard the screeching of brakes. His eyes shot open and at the cataclysmic thunder of collision he was up and running. He slammed into the window, almost falling out. He scanned the street below and discovered the wreckage. Already little tongues of flame were lapping up at the tangled mess of steel and flesh.

"Rukia, Rukia get out here now!"

"What happened?" she asked as she hopped out from the cupboard.

"There's been an accident outside! Quick, I need your help!" Without thinking he grabbed her hand and bolted downstairs. Rukia didn't want to admit that his grip was hurting her, nor that she felt safe in his hands. She just remained silent as Ichigo dashed through the house searching for a first-aid kit. When he snatched that up he launched himself outside with Rukia still rattling along behind him. She lost her footing in the crisp snow outside and she collapsed face-first. Ichigo helped her up and then together they were off racing towards the crash.

Once outside in the frigid night air they each felt chills run through them, but they pushed on. Ichigo threw himself into the burning wreckage and found a young man, probably only in his early twenties trapped under debris. He struggled to lift the rubble but with Rukia's help they managed to raise it up above the young man, but it was already too late.

There was no way someone could survive his injuries.

Rukia choked back tears and Ichigo grit his teeth as he continued searching. He found more bodies in the second car. All he could tell was that the car would have been red, indicated only by the chipping pain on the crooked frame. Inside there was another man, this time probably in his early thirties. He was curled up around the steering wheel, his face an indistinguishable mess. In a panic Ichigo tore the door free from its snapped hinges and checked his pulse.

It was weak, but he was alive. With renewed hope he lifted the man from the wreckage while Rukia sifted through the first aid kit for the items Ichigo instructed her to find. When he was out in the open Ichigo began treating him with all his knowledge he had learned from his father. He set Rukia the task of finding the rest of the survivors and so Rukia crawled inside the wreckage to resume the search.

In a few minutes she returned, this time with a little girl draped over her shoulders. She gingerly set the poor thing down and checked her heat-beat and her pulse. Rukia yelped at the absence of both and frantically performed CPR.

Ichigo shouted instructions while trying to stem the blood-flow from the father's lacerated neck and face.

Soon enough more people scurried out of their homes, snapped out of their holiday cheer and brought back to bitter taste of reality. They rang for the ambulance and fire brigade while others helped lift the two survivors into the Kurosaki Clinic. One neighbour rushed inside and practically fell into her friends.

"Ichigo, what happened?" this cry came from Tatsuki Arisawa, Ichigo's childhood friend and neighbour from down the street. Sweat was pouring down her forehead despite the freezing air and she panted like an over-worked hound.

"It was a car crash," Rukia explained, "a head-on collision." she gazed down at the unconscious girl and frowned. She was breathing, but she wasn't waking up. It was the best she could do. Her healing kido only worked on spiritual entities and so were useless on humans. Without that she was powerless to help the poor girl or her family.

Paramedics soon arrived and took the father. After an assessment of the girl they decided to keep her there in the clinic as the Hospital was currently overworked as it is. They listed instructions for Ichigo to follow in case of emergency and then they were off. Another ambulance arrived to scour the wreckage but the only other people found within the wreck were pronounced dead at the scene.

Ichigo sat against the wall, his eyes staring vacantly ahead. Rukia clung to him and together they listened to the noises outside. It was almost Christmas. So why could they not hear carols, but crying instead? Why was there so much red and no green? Why was their no laughter, only screams? Why were there no jingling bells, only the crackle of flames?

It was almost Christmas...But there was no joy...